


We're Not Worried (For the Most Part)

by mitchello



Series: Wayne Pack 2020 [3]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Female Dick Grayson, Gen, No Sex, Nosy Tim Drake, Pack Bonding, Pack Dynamics, Pack Family, Pack Feels, Protective Bruce Wayne, Protective Jason Todd, jason Todd is a good bro, not a/b/o, tim drake is a good bro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:02:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23730508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mitchello/pseuds/mitchello
Summary: Jason Todd lets his brother do the detective work then says, "let's just ask"Or: Perks of being a little brotherOr: Disappearing socks
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Tim Drake & Coffee - Relationship, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Tim Drake & Jason Todd
Series: Wayne Pack 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1699414
Comments: 8
Kudos: 166





	We're Not Worried (For the Most Part)

It was taking Tim far too long to get his tablet, so Jason decided to go look for him. 

Not because he thought Tim might have fallen asleep in a hallway, no, only because he was sure Tim would have some insight on what was up with the whole tea-nature documentary-pack quilt-protocol Jason had never witnessed before last night. 

He found Tim halfway to the kitchen, tablet in hand. Awake. 

“This is weird.” Tim said softly like he was scared his voice would travel too far and somebody who wasn’t Jason would hear it. “Have you ever heard Bruce say a swear word?”

Jason had. On several occasions. It was something Bruce liked to do when Jason was Robin. He’d lean in close when he’d curse and say it quietly like they had to keep it a secret (they did, Alfred did not put up with foul language). It used to make Jason feel stupidly happy when he’d hear Bruce curse. “Yeah?” He didn’t understand why Tim had brought it up. 

“I’ve never heard Bruce swear. At least, not on purpose. Like, I think I once heard him say ‘shit’ when he ripped a suit before a gala while in the Batcave, but I’ve never actually heard him curse. He just said ‘fuck’... casually.” 

They reached the kitchen and Tim went straight for his half-full coffee cup. 

“And he and Dick were fighting.  _ Bantering _ . They were arguing over blankets, Jason. I need you to tell me honestly, am I really awake right now? Or is this some alternate universe?” Tim drained the rest of his coffee. 

“Bruce? Said fuck?” That was one out of two cuss words Jason had never heard Bruce say. He wasn’t even going to approach the blanket thing. 

“Dick said Bruce preferred to be little spoon and then Bruce said he’d prefer to go the fuck to sleep. Do you think Alfred knows?” Tim, just then, remembered Alfred was in the room. He looked at the man for an answer. Jason did too, ignoring the spoon comment.

“I thought my need to dissuade Master Bruce from saying such words was over. He used to use them quite frequently.”

“When did he stop?”

“When he realized he was an adult. An event which I would have preferred happening much earlier in life than it did.”

Tim refilled his coffee and pulled open a blank space for notes on his tablet. He titled it ‘The Sis is Amiss’ and then drew a black line down the center. He labeled one side questions and the other side answers. 

“So is the den thing new?” Jason asked the room. His curiosity had won out. He didn’t really care who answered but by the way Tim looked curiously to Alfred it seemed as though he didn’t know either. 

Alfred turned from where he was putting dishes away. “I’m not quite sure I understand.”

“Last night,” Tim started, “when Dick said she’d sleep in the den, you and Bruce fell into an immediate response. Kind of like there were laid out steps that you had to follow?”

Alfred leaned his back into the counter next to the sink. His face tightened in a way that was both a little sad and a little sentimental. “When Miss Richard was a child she often would sleep in the den when she was considerably stressed. Master Bruce and I would keep her company so it seems we’ve made a bit of a ritual for whenever it happens.”

“Then it’s probably safe to say Dick is stressed out right now.” Tim wrote ‘Why is Dick stressed?’ under the questions column. He didn’t write anything in the answers column. 

Jason observed Tim write out several more questions as Alfred turned back to his work. Then, Tim drew a horizontal line and wrote ‘Known Information’ underneath it. He made several bullet points. 

  * Dick was missing for three months
  * She hadn’t taken vacation or called into her work
  * She didn’t make any payments while she was gone
  * She didn’t take any provisions from her apartment 
  * The bite mark is from Deathstroke
  * She was with Deathstroke until just over a week ago
  * Talia al Ghul ‘got her out’
    * Phrasing makes it sound like she was being held against her will
  * She was with Talia a little over a week
  * Talia knows whatever happened to Dick
    * Should probably keep an eye on Bruce to see when he calls Talia



“You’re such a stalker, Timmy.” Jason said from over his brother’s shoulder. 

Tim turned at him with a glare. “Aren’t you worried? I’ve never seen Dick…” 

So Exhausted? Sad? Uncertain? Seeking comfort instead of dealing with everything herself? Yeah, Jason was worried but what came out of his mouth was, “Tan?”

“No.” Tim made a subpoint and wrote that Dick had likely been in a sunny climate. “Distraught? I think that’s how I’d say it. I’ve seen her come out of fear toxin more chipper.”

“Why don’t we just ask her about it?” Dick always said to just ask. 

Tim stared at him like he’d said something crazy. “She _ told Bruce to call Talia _ about it. What makes you think she’d talk to us?”

A slow grin crept up his face. “Tim-Tim, I forgot how new you are to this younger brother thing. I have so much to teach. You see, being a younger brother might mean Dick gets to boss us around and call it older-sister-privilege, but it also gives  _ us _ very special powers.” Jason took Tim’s coffee as assurance the younger boy would follow him out of the kitchen. Sure enough, the boy scrambled to follow him. 

When they made it to the den, Bruce had already left. Dick was folding up blankets and putting them back into the ottoman. 

Jason set Tim’s coffee on the bookshelf next to the archway then dramatically flopped onto the couch. He was going to work his younger brother magic but Dick’s scent still rubbed him the wrong way. The pack scent wasn’t as deep in Dick’s skin like it usually was. Even in Bludhaven, Alfred would mail her different items from the pack so she could keep the scent fresh and she’d mail him back some of her belongings to keep her scent in the Manor. “Dick.” It sounded more upset than he meant it to. He blamed pack instincts. “Come love me.” 

Dick put the last quilt into the ottoman and a wide smile lit up her face. “Aw, Jason, did you miss me that much?” She poked at his sides. 

“Stop being annoying.” He grabbed at her hands to stop the assault but she slipped them away easily. “You don’t smell right! Just let me-” he gestured with his hands. 

Dick pulled away from poking at him and sat on his feet. Jason did a sit up so he could run his wrist across her. Apparently, that wasn’t good enough for Dick because she leaned over to rub her cheek against his. He realized, then, he must not smell right either. Her part of the pack scent was dull on all of them. Dick’s individual scent was like molasses and butter. All together, the pack scent mixed into what Jason would describe as a spice cake (Bruce was clove, Tim was salt and vanilla, Alfred was ginger, and Jason was cinnamon), but with Dick’s scent partially smothered by time, they smelled more spicy than sweet. 

Dick pushed Jason so he’d only take up one seat, proceeded to slide into the middle of the couch, and patted the open spot next to her for Tim to sit. 

Tim looked over to Jason for help. A reminder that they were here on a mission. 

Dick pulled a sad face and Tim sat down. She ran her chin over his head and he, in turn, brushed his cheek against hers. 

“Do I smell better now?” She asked teasingly and ruffled Tim’s hair. 

Both boys nodded. 

There were several ways Jason knew how to play the younger brother card. He had said this would be a learning opportunity for Tim, but he’d also never used any of the tricks while Dick was… hurt? Not even pretending she was fine? So he chose the simplest one. “Will you tell us why you were gone for so long?” It wasn’t commanding an answer like the way Bruce sought information and it let Dick take control of the conversation. 

Dick’s glance over to Tim told Jason she thought he already knew. The kid was caught snooping then. 

“I got a bit kidnapped. Hung out with Slade for a bit.” Dick’s expression contorted with anger more intense than Jason remembered ever seeing. Anger and hatred and something dark. The emotions flickered across her face in rapid succession then turned purposefully neutral. “Talia bumped into us and decided to take some pity on me. She freed me, helped me out with something, and now I’m here.” 

Jason hated Slade Wilson’s obsession with his sister. He knew something happened once with the Titans, but the information he had was severely limited. 

“Talia bumped into you?” Tim asked. He looked equally concerned and disturbed and his question also brought Jason's attempt to teach him the brotherly charm to an end. 

Jason briefly wondered how much the kid knew about Deathstroke’s weird thing for Dick. 

“Yeah, in Nepal.” 

They hadn’t even known she was in Nepal. “And she just helped you out?”

Dick’s expression shifted into the one adults wear when they think they need to protect a kid instead of explain things.

Jason and Tim were not kids. 

“There are some situations where a woman will always help another woman if they can.” Dick replied. A sugar coated answer for sure. 

“Dick, Talia stealing you away from a mercenary isn’t really comparable to her giving you her last tampon or whatever,” Jason said sharply. Tim had already disrupted the magic, he didn't see a reason not to stir the pot now. 

He knew that wasn’t what Dick had meant. He’d grown up in the streets. He’d seen first hand what women were willing to do for each other. Strangers gave numbers to strangers and promised to help them get away from abusive partners. Prostitutes covered for each other even if it meant getting beat. Women lied about knowing each other to get rid of creeps. Women always protected women from preying men. But Dick was  _ Nightwing _ , she didn’t need protection from weirdo Slade Wilson. Talia knew that. She wouldn’t just step in because she knew Dick was being held captive by Deathstroke.

“You two don’t need to worry. Nothing that happened had any long lasting consequences,” Dick assured them. 

A floorboard creaked and all three of them froze to listen for footsteps. 

Bruce appeared at the archway a moment later with his fingers wrapped tightly around his cell phone. “Has the second board from the mirror always creaked?” he asked them. 

“No,” Tim moaned, “Now there’s a fourth one I need to remember to avoid.”

“Fifth,” Jason corrected at the same time as Bruce and Dick. 

Bruce focused his gaze on Dick. “I was just informed you need some things picked up from the pharmacy.” He sounded calm and casual but his eyes made a quick scan of Dick that let Jason know Bruce was internally freaking out over something. 

“You’re mad,” Dick stated.

“Yes. You were supposed to pick them up yesterday.”

The tiniest twitch in Bruce’s hand around his phone convinced Jason that the anger had nothing to do with the delay in going to the pharmacy and everything to do with something else he’d been told on the phone. 

Also, since when had any of them actually gone to get drugs from a pharmacy? 

What would Dick need from a pharmacy?

“Are you okay?” Tim asked Dick. 

“Yes.”

Tim didn’t appear convinced and he looked at Bruce to confirm Dick’s statement. 

“Dick is perfectly healthy.”

“Healthy enough for patrol tonight?” Jason knew that even the most non-serious thing could flip on Bruce’s protective switch and get someone benched. 

“If Dick wanted to go out tonight, I’d have no grounds to try to stop her.” That was Bruce’s way to say he knew he couldn’t stop Dick from doing something even if he wanted to. 

Dick let out a small growl from next to Jason, annoyed that they were talking like she wasn’t there. “Shouldn’t you be at work, Bruce?” She glared at him. 

“I’ll go in after I drive you to get your medication.”

“I can drive myself. I’ll borrow the hellcat.”

Bruce looked them all over with a somewhat content expression despite Dick's glaring. Jason realized it’d been months since the whole pack was in the Manor out of costume. “I’ll ride passenger then.”

Dick let out a long breath that meant Bruce was only two wrong words away from making her lose her shit. “Fine.” She stood. “I’m not changing.”

For a moment, Bruce froze. Dick never lost arguments and she never did something she didn’t want to do. Jason almost laughed. This was probably the first time Bruce had ever won against Dick. 

She walked out the archway. 

“Fine.” Bruce said and Jason wasn’t sure if it was repeated in amazement or if it was a childish statement of agreement. Bruce handed Tim his coffee from the bookshelf before he followed after Dick. 

Jason found his eyes searching the room for something. It took him a second to realize he was looking for the socks he’d taken off after he’d climbed onto the couch with Dick the previous night. They were surprisingly absent. 

“Tim, did you see my socks earlier?”

“No.”

He scanned the room again. He knew he'd taken them off. 

It took another moment for Jason to realize he was only started looking for his socks because he’d seen some that suspiciously looked like his on Dick’s feet as she’d left the room. 

“Tim.” He grabbed his brother’s shoulder, accidentally causing the younger to spill some of his coffee. “She stole my socks.” His voice was half over-exaggerated grief and half betrayal. 

Tim looked Jason straight in the eyes. “Your pain is nothing. She stole _my favorite_ pants.”


End file.
